


Radio Silence

by mrtvejpes



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Beaches, Bottom Chae Hyungwon, Car Sex, Caretaking, Choking, Developing Relationship, Hair-pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, Happy Ending, Hyungki, Hyungwon Is a Taxi Driver, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lap Sitting, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Porn with some plot, Some Humor, Top Yoo Kihyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 17:32:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16791520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrtvejpes/pseuds/mrtvejpes
Summary: “Even if I didn't wait for nine years, I kept searching for you. All the time. In everyone.”





	Radio Silence

**Author's Note:**

> For L.

It was dark and late and Kihyun knew that this was a bad idea. Light poured inside the car in intervals. Glow – blackout. Glow – blackout. The roof of his mouth still tasted like coffee that had too much sugar in it, the cheap canned kind you could buy at any gas station.

They had stopped at one awhile ago. Its not so welcoming welcome sign had glared a gnarly yellow, the not-cold-but-not-warm shade of neon which Kihyun never liked.

Frankly, he had half hoped Hyungwon would just get bored and ride off while he had waited for Kihyun to get back from the convenience store by the station. Turns out he had taken a nap instead. Kihyun had taken too long to choose the damn canned coffee he hadn't even wanted, had taken even longer to swallow the last artificially sweetened swig as he stood outside in the open, the lights of the convenience store flooding him from behind and turning him into a clear-cut black hole against the display window.

He sighed. He still shivered a little because the night was cold and the coffee had been even colder and his hands were never, ever really warm.

He touched the seat belt absently. Made sure it was fastened. Made sure it wasn't too tight and didn't slice at the skin of his neck. He was too damn short, and seat belts in these old cars always left his neck sensitive on one side.

He could practically hear Changkyun's snicker. _I didn't peg you as the kind of guy who would rather have it bruised all the way around_.

Kihyun didn't even know if he _was_ that kind of guy, so he would usually end up flipping Changkyun off and adjusting the belt where he needed it without saying another word.

He couldn't do the same in Hyungwon's taxi.

The rickety Saab purred on. The seat belt brushed Kihyun's neck. The road was clear. It had been clear since the last exit to the beach. It was always like that outside the city.

They passed a street lamp every once in a while. Kihyun closed his eyes every time it happened. He was tired. He'd had a rough couple of days. He had shaved several sets of cheekbones, snipped two noses, and lifted a pair of breasts that had been gorgeous to begin with. All he wanted now was his bed, and yet here he was, letting Hyungwon drive further and further away from his comfortable condo in the city center.

He should have bought regular coffee. He didn't even like the canned kind. It reminded him of school lunch breaks and of feeling fancy because he was drinking the stuff that his older brother would drink.

Kihyun had been thinking about high school at odd times lately. Well, the biggest oddity was that he thought about it at all. That he remembered.

Memories sneaked up on him. He found himself mirroring his old habits. He laughed a little louder, not always at things that were funny. He ate at midnight. He thought about Minhyuk and wondered where the lovable fucker ended up.

He remembered what it had been like to crush on Gunhee hard for two whole years and to feel like an idiot when Gun had told him _You could have just said so_ before he had given Kihyun the handjob of his life.

Kihyun wasn't big on nostalgia. He had no bad memories of high school, but he didn't miss the place, either. He hadn't even seen any of his former classmates for half a decade, if not more.

Until Hyungwon.

So now the record was broken and Kihyun thought of high school and whenever he needed a taxi, he called Hyungwon's number. He didn't need it very often. He called more often than he needed to.

Kihyun wasn't quite sure if Hyungwon recognized him. It had been ages.

But it was fair if he didn't. Kihyun wasn't quite sure that he would have recognized Hyungwon if the guy hadn't been so popular back then, and handsome, and dating Minhyuk for awhile. He still struck Kihyun as someone who could have anything. He had the same face. It was more lined nowadays, and not as soft, and so haggard behind the wheel that Kihyun kind of feared for his safety; but it was still the sort of face that people demanded to have when they walked into Kihyun's clinic.

Kihyun would go bankrupt if everyone looked like Hyungwon.

The street lamps on the side of the road turned more sparse. They shone dimmer. Orange. Old.

Hyungwon was a silent driver. He had the radio on. It hummed in the background. Kihyun could barely recognize the broadcasters' voices from the songs they were playing because the Saab roared too strong as it chased darkness.

Kihyun checked the clock. Hyungwon saw him do it.

“You sure you don't want me to head back? The beach is quite far.”

“I'm sure,” said Kihyun although he was anything but sure. The only thing he was sure about was that he was going to be beat tomorrow. He had work planned. Nothing too complicated, mostly consultations with clients and a couple of cosmetic procedures – put a needle here, a needle there, done. He was like that. He left his Fridays a little freer since he knew there was always paperwork to finish and phone calls to deal with, and that he usually couldn't leave until late in the evening, no matter how few clients he had scheduled. Fridays were busy even when they weren't.

Kihyun heard nothing save for the engine for good five hundred metres. It was soothing. Anything that didn't outright cause him anxiety soothed him nowadays. Quiet elevator rides. Queues for lunch. Moments in which he could just not exist; breathe; pass another minute.

“We might not get back until sunrise.”

Kihyun didn't look Hyungwon's way.

“That's alright.”

“It's gonna cost you.”

“You already told me that.”

“So you're really making a shit ton, aren't you.”

“I get by,” said Kihyun cagily.

“That clinic of yours looks nice. Must be cosy to work there.”

So Hyungwon wasn't actually a silent driver.

Kihyun should have sat in the back seat as always.

He adjusted the seat belt.

“It's alright,” he murmured.

“You know, back in school when we were choosing who's gonna make it big, you were pretty high up on the list.”

“Sorry?”

“Back in school,” said Hyungwon. He darted a short glance at Kihyun, and it was worn but not unfriendly, and he looked back ahead. The road was still clear. There was nothing running over the uneven asphalt apart from the cones of light that the Saab pushed forward. “You remember those bullshit little polls we would have to participate in at the end of every year? Like, who's most likely to succeed in the real world and who's most likely to get married first and stuff? I think you got voted pretty high up in both of these. Remember?”

“Yeah.” Kihyun shifted in his seat. The edge of the nylon strap grazed against his neck and it stung. He tried to sit up straighter, but he was bone-tired. He ended up sagging back. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Everyone thought the deacon's son is gonna be married by twenty-five and have two adorable kids and two even more adorable dogs.”

“I guess I missed that milestone already.”

“No kids?”

“No wife, either.”

“What a letdown.”

“I have a cat, though.”

“But are you married to it?”

They chuckled. Kihyun didn't notice he did it the way he used to – high, singsongy. It turned into an exhale.

“I remember that you were at the bottom of the list. The who's-gonna-get-married-soon list. But you were, like, second on the who's-gonna-make-it-big one.”

Hyungwon fell silent and fiddled with the volume button.

“Didn't know you remembered me,” he remarked. He had both hands on the wheel again. The radio hummed away at the same volume.

“You're not very forgettable,” said Kihyun. His tongue was thick and too sweet. The aftertaste of sugar didn't want to go away.

“Glad to hear that.”

“Besides,” said Kihyun, fighting off a yawn, “you dated my best friend.”

“For like three weeks,” snorted Hyungwon.

“Three weeks feel like an eternity when you're in high school.”

It also felt like whoever your friend touched in high school, especially if it was your best friend, was off limits – also for an eternity.

“How's Minhyuk, by the way?”

“I honestly don't know,” said Kihyun. “We haven't seen each other since...”

He thought hard.

He thought for too long.

“I see.” Hyungwon smiled a little.

“I suppose you two don't hang out anymore, either,” commented Kihyun, awkward.

“God, no.” Hyungwon actually laughed. His laughter was a rumble – but a faraway rumble. “Minhyuk was... too much for me.”

“Funny. He used to say the same thing about you.”

“You remember that, too?”

“I have a good memory.”

He did – and he didn't. Memories came to him almost corporeal, vivid to the point that he believed he could take a step forward and walk right into the moment he was thinking about. But they came in intervals, just like the lamps by the road. They shone too bright – and the rest was darkness.

The thing was, Kihyun recalled Minhyuk's awfully strong cologne and sleepovers at his place where it would never be tidy; and he recalled the brand of bubblegum Gun would chew on to piss off the math teacher; and he recalled how young he had been, how pressured already.

But these were all snippets he would have left buried if it hadn't been for Hyungwon.

Kihyun had a different life now. He was the one wearing cologne, though he dared to think it smelled nice, if a little earthy. His condo, his clinic, his relationships were tidy. He was still young, and still pressured, but he was blissfully out of the closet despite what his father the deacon loved to say about sodomy and blasphemy and any other funny word to stone his son with during the yearly Yoo family Chuseok dinner.

Really, though, his father had no reason to be so concerned.

The thing about Kihyun was that he didn't date. He hadn't really dated anyone since Gunhee. There was no one to kiss between classes to feel the rush of something forbidden. To taste cheap strawberry chewing gum and a hint of cigarette smoke off their tongue. There wasn't that sense of taboo that would push Kihyun on and make him swell inside his too-tight pants which had once belonged to his older brother.

Kihyun and Gunhee had dated for five months, maybe, if he squinted. It had lasted forever back then. Kihyun had definitely felt like it had, and like it would, and like they had accomplished so much by staying together for so long. Five months. And then they had sort of stopped and become friends again. Kihyun wasn't sure who had broken it off, or how, or whether he had hurt. It was one of the blank spaces.

He just knew that Minhyuk had hooked up with Hyungwon around the same time.

 _He lasts so long_ , he remembered Minhyuk saying. _It's like he's somewhere else. I could fuck into him for an hour and he'd still be hard and looking at me like he's just waiting for me to start._

Kihyun coloured a little. He stared out of the window. He couldn't see the cityscape anymore, which had been barely a breath of lighted up mist and small black skyscrapers on the horizon the last time he looked.

Now it was all forest behind the window, blacker than the skyscrapers. There were no more lamps. Hyungwon drove slower in case a stray deer decided to jump out of the forest in front of the Saab. They weren't that far from the city for that to happen, but it was usually when things like that _did_ happen: when they shouldn't.

The asphalt soon turned to gravel and gravel to sand, and it was one in the morning and the roof of Kihyun's mouth was still sticky, and the radio didn't hum, it hissed. It filled the car with white noise. A voice broke through the crackly sizzle every once in a while at first, but then it stopped. The Saab rolled hefty over the softly rippled dunes and onto the beach.

Wind screeched against the windows. They were in the open. Not a single person roamed the place, unless Kihyun counted the two of them. Whirring, the car moved forward. Mighty, denting deep lines in the wet sand.

Hyungwon pressed the break. The car stood so close to the sea that Kihyun saw it fold and unfold, a solid mass of black that was at one with the starless sky. Kihyun didn't know where one began and the other ended. Below, greyish waves broke the surface. Above, greyish wisps of clouds did the same. Waves licked at the beach in curly creases, like a laid out crumpled piece of fabric.

“We're here,” Hyungwon announced, the statement needless.

“Yeah,” said Kihyun. He did it to be polite. There was nothing he wanted to say, really; nothing worth talking about. He stared at the sea as it breathed salty. He wondered how cold it was. Not just the water, but the air, the sand, the sting of the night.

Hyungwon turned off the engine. The taximeter turned off too.

“Keep it running,” said Kihyun.

“Someone wants to go broke.”

“That _someone_ must be you since you let blokes drag you out in the middle of the night and you don't even try to get cash out of it.”

“You're still so pissy,” Hyungwon smiled.

Kihyun paused.

“Excuse me?”

“You've always been the pissiest person in your grade. The pissiest I've ever met, I swear. And I've met some.”

Irritation overcame Kihyun's face. His features tingled and hardened at the insult. Still, Kihyun willed the copper-tasting displeasure back down his throat. There was no point trying to disprove of Hyungwon's opinion because, frankly, he was kind of right.

“I apologize,” clipped Kihyun.

To his confusion, Hyungwon smiled again.

“See? So pissy.”

“How am I pissy? I just apologized to you.”

“Pissily.”

Inhaling, Kihyun unclasped the seat belt. He put his cold fingers to the abused spot on his neck and sighed as the coolness fought the burn. Suddenly, he was far less inclined to stay pissy.

“I'm really sorry. It's just the way I am. I get snippy sometimes even when I don't mean it.”

“I know.”

Kihyun gave him a dubious glance. What did he mean, he knew? They had talked, like, twice, if Kihyun was being generous. And it had been ages.

Drumming away on the wheel, Huyngwon's fingers were fishing for moonlight and shadows. He didn't lock eyes with Kihyun. There was no way he didn't feel the stare, though.

He replied to the unvoiced question soon enough.

“Back when I was with Minhyuk, he used to talk about you a great deal. I think I knew more about what you like and hate and what you do on a daily basis than what I knew about him.”

“That's... concerning.”

Hyungwon chuckled. “Could be. To other people, at least. You two had the kind of relationship that one just has to be jealous of, on some unconscious level.”

“You were jealous?”

“A little. He really loved you.”

“There was nothing between us, though.”

“Oh, I knew that. Everyone knew that. But that was sort of what made your friendship all the more intimidating and enviable. You were this irreplaceable presence in Minhyuk's life, as he was in yours. It was like dating one of you meant dating both.”

“Sounds like a shitty jackpot when the extra person you're getting is a pissy dwarf,” mumbled Kihyun.

Hyungwon appreciated the self-deprecation, a little laugh leaving his lips.

Funny. Kihyun didn't remember him laughing, ever.

From what he knew, Hyungwon had always been the tranquil type, too friendless to even have people to laugh with. Too good for someone to even try and reach him.

Well, Minhyuk had never been just a _someone_. He'd tried, and he'd succeeded. Briefly, but succeeded.

“It was alright,” said Hyungwon, leaning back. He'd grown taller, the top of his head overreaching the headrest. “He would say a lot of interesting stuff about you.”

The hand which was rubbing the sore spot stilled.

“Such as?”

“Well, sometimes he would talk smack.”

“Of course,” Kihyun deadpanned.

“And sometimes he would talk about you and Gunhee. He was pretty mad at the guy for breaking things off with you.”

Oh.

So it had been Gun's call. Actually, yeah. It made sense.

Whenever Kihyun pictured Gunhee, there was still this stir within him, smouldering like a dropped cigarette which didn't quite finish burning and which nobody cared to trample into the ground and put it out. He didn't regret the break-up because it could've come anyway – a little later, when he was a little more in love. This way, things had at least been clean.

But what on earth had he done for it to end _then_?

Kihyun wondered whether he was so stuck because he just didn't _know_.

The radio rustled. Unfocused, Kihyun looked at it. At Hyungwon's fingers fluidly turning the volume button to and fro.

“Sometimes he would talk about how competitive you got when it came to grades and the school choir and the highest score in Crash Bandicoot,” said Hyungwon, low, barely overpowering the breaking of waves and the white noise.

Holy fuck, it's been years, was Kihyun's first thought.

Holy fuck, sounds like me, was Kihyun's second thought.

“Holy fuck,” he said at last, feeling intelligent.

“See, I also have a good memory,” remarked Hyungwon. A tinge of smugness coloured his tone, but Kihyun was certain the guy wasn't proud of his advanced retention of information.

He was just glad to tease Kihyun.

Which was strange, given that Hyungwon had never been the playful one. The witty one, yeah. The tart one. So sharp sometimes that it would send even the clingiest people in their clique packing. Hazy, Kihyun upturned the dark chunks of his memory to fish for partly forgotten flashes of his past.

The dorky victory dance he would do whenever he would beat Minhyuk. That annoying twat in the choir who would steal Kihyun's spotlight at times – Jung Daehyun was his name.

His father's blank face whenever Kihyun would come home with anything less than straight A's.

One moment in particular billowed the membranous surface of his memory, arching it like a whale's back coming from the depth of the ocean all the way up to breathe. Kihyun supposed it came up so clearly because of the same reason like the other ones.

He glanced sideways. Hyungwon sat hunched beside him, chin resting atop the steering wheel. His head was turned towards Kihyun, but he was staring out of the window, vacant, lost in the black bulk that the sky and the sea created together.

Then, sensing the press of Kihyun's thoughts in the air and on his skin, Hyungwon's eyes flickered back to him.

“I think you only ever properly talked to me when you and Minhyuk weren't even a thing anymore,” Kihyun blurted.

“The New Year's Eve party?”

“I – yeah. Yeah, I think so. Unless it was a Christmas party.”

“Could be either. Minhyuk always finds a reason to celebrate.”

“I just know that it was snowing a lot.”

“Yeah. Someone left their shoes outside and didn't find them until spring. No kidding.”

“Jooheon.” Kihyun's mouth was quicker than his mind. “He had to go home in Minhyuk's slippers.”

Hyungwon cackled.

The sound rumbled through Kihyun. Reminded him of the party. Of Hyungwon, again so sleepy, sleepier than now, folding himself next to Kihyun on a worn velvet sofa.

Kihyun had buried this. Buried the way the crown of Hyungwon's head smelled.

He twitched in his seat and reached for the door handle.

“Are you tired? Maybe we should go outside for a bit. Get some fresh air.”

“You go,” said Hyungwon. “I'll just watch you.”

Kihyun twitched again. He let his hand fall.

He remained planted in his seat.

The last time he had stayed beside Hyungwon when the guy was this drowsy, Kihyun had basically turned into his bed.

The New-Year's-Eve-but-possibly-Christmas party had lasted until dawn. Hyungwon had gone over his limit, as simple as that. Before Kihyun had even realized it, Hyungwon had become a tipsy pile of slush by his side, curling on the tiny sofa and looking for a place to sleep the heaviness off. He had laid his head in Kihyun's lap. There he had dozed off for awhile.

For _awhile_. Kihyun had ended up trapped in the same spot for good two hours, his bladder begging and his pissiness, as always, going through the roof.

He could taste liquor in his throat as he recalled the night – the kind of liquor that tasted like canned coffee and probably had the same amount of sugar in it. He had been too young to stomach anything stronger although everyone else had been drinking beer and vodka and whatnot, so he had stuck to Minhyuk's mom favourite Baileys. He had been sober, but giddy from the sweetness and warmth of the granny booze. Giddy – until Hyungwon had nestled in his lap, there for Minhyuk and Gunhee to see.

Kihyun's stomach shrank.

Once more, he had the urge to open the door and plunge into the cold and dark outside.

There was something unsettling about Hyungwon when he was only a wisp away from falling asleep. He was open. Uncaring about his own personal space. So far from his usual self that the chasm between the two selves made Kihyun wonder. Wonder where one began and where the other ended and which one was the true one.

All in all, sleepy Hyungwon was not the Hyungwon Kihyun was used to.

Granted, Hyungwon had also been rather inebriated at that New Years' Eve party, not just drowsy. Inebriated, and probably a bit sad – although the break up had been his idea, not Minhyuk's.

Kihyun reminded himself of that. _This_ day was different. Here and now, the worst that could happen would be Hyungwon dozing off by himself in the driver's seat.

Idly, Kihyun rubbed his neck.

“Wanna me to go with you?” asked Hyungwon out of the blue.

“Go where?”

Without a word, Hyungwon pointed one spidery finger towards the windscreen. Kihyun followed its direction and gazed at the white beach and the inky storm right behind it.

“No. No, it was a bad idea. It's probably freezing.”

“I have blankets in the trunk. And some soup,” he said, twisting his upper body around to grope behind his seat. “But I guess it's cold by now.

“It's like you live here,” commented Kihyun.

“I kinda do.”

Gaping, Kihyun reached down to pick up the thermos flask Hyungwon must have been fumbling for. He laid it in the man's lap.

“That's a hyperbole, I hope.”

“Well. It kinda is, but then again it kinda isn't.”

“I'm kinda lost,” said Kihyun dryly.

“Like, I have a home, but I'm never there. I usually just sleep in the car.”

Kihyun gaped some more.

“Why?”

“Well, a lot of people need a lift in the middle of the night or really early in the morning. Wasted people trying to get home from wherever they've been drinking, busy people travelling to work while there are no buses or trains running... Stuff like that. That's where I come into the picture.”

“Like a hero.”

“More like a broke bitch.”

“Are you that poorly off?”

As soon as he said it, Kihyun practically physically cringed at his bad manners. Talking to Hyungwon made him drop his guard because the man, weirdly, had almost none.

“Not really,” shrugged Hyungwon, saving him. “I usually break even in the middle of the month. It's just... what's the point, you know. What's the point sitting at home. Here I can at least meet some people. I can see someone else have a life.”

“Do you have any regulars?”

“Well. Now I have you.”

Gripping the flask carefully, Hyungwon unscrewed the lid. He gave a sniff, savouring the saltiness of the soup, but a few not so careful sloshes around must have been enough for him to determine that the soup was, indeed, no longer hot, or even warm, or at least lukewarm.

“I guess it's no soup for us,” he observed, “but there's still the blankets.”

“I don't think we should leave the car.”

“We can at least bring the blankets and sit in the back. It's more comfy there.”

“Alright.”

Wait.

Kihyun sputtered as Hyungwon cracked the door open, a slice of salty breeze immediately cutting his words off and filling the car to the brim. He shivered. When at the beach, one expected it to be balmy, which was partly the reason why Kihyun felt the chill pierce right through his core. It seeped into his marrow. He reluctantly moved to follow Hyungwon. He put one foot on the ground, then the other, sand crunching under his polished black shoes like pure salt and shredded crystals.

Water lapped at the beach, its roar loud. But not louder than his thoughts.

Hyungwon was done pulling the stuff out of the trunk before Kihyun cracked the joints in his body. His flesh and bones had stiffened during the ride. Wind whipped his coat open. When he parted his mouth to speak, the lingering sweetness of coffee gave way to the sharp tang of seawater. He closed his mouth.

Still a little dumbfounded, Kihyun climbed back into the car, settling down in the back seat. Hyungwon threw several duvets over him, pocketing something small as he did so. The keys, most likely. Ducking his head, he crawled inside. He shut the door.

The sea grew silent.

It was the same car, and the same man beside him, and the air crackled with the same radio silence, but Kihyun's throat clogged up. His fingertips tingled at the changes in temperature. Shifting awkwardly, he put his hands on his thighs and tried to warm them up by rubbing them up and down.

He knew full well he was just keeping his hands busy. As soon as his skin began to burn from chafing it, he stopped and grabbed the blankets. He spread them, arranging the thick, fluffy fabric over their legs. He gave a satisfied exhale when he was done – but his satisfaction dissipated the very next second, just like that. Just knowing that he was trapped again, in a way, with someone within whose vicinity he wasn't supposed to be. Ever.

Even after the eternity that passed.

Visibly cosy, Hyungwon tipped his head back. He had this glossy look in his eyes which unnerved Kihyun. That a-little-bit-out-of-it look.

“You know, Minhyuk also used to talk about all the small things you would do when nobody was looking.”

“What things?”

“Things,” said Hyungwon, purposely vague to see if it would reawaken Kihyun's temper.

Kihyun remained quiet, his expression as clear as a mirror. He held Hyungwon's gaze until the other one cracked. Suddenly soft in the face, Hyungwon grinned. Some of the lines telling his age smoothened out while others filled with shadows; but those were laughter lines, and they looked all too at home on him.

“Care-taking things,” continued Hyungwon, pushing one shoulder into the backrest of the seat so he could sit a tad closer. “Caring things.”

“Such as?”

“Such as,” repeated Hyungwon, his voice a good half octave lower than Kihyun's, only much mushier, “these invisible little tasks that no one wants to do and no one notices, but everyone kind of needs. You would pick up after yourself and the rest of the guys whenever you guys would go out. Like when the guys would spill popcorn in the cinema or make a mess at a park or a diner.”

“But everyone does that.”

“No, not really. That's the thing.”

“Everyone _I_ know does that.”

“Because you have this effect on people. You do all these tiny things for them until they inevitably notice, even if it takes time, and then you make them follow you by just being you. But _you_ don't notice _that_.”

Kihyun clammed up.

The blank in his resistance encouraged Hyungwon to go on.

“Minhyuk told me other things. You would always keep your word, even when it would inconvenience you. You would share your food and pocket money and everything else – all the person would need to do was ask politely. You would leave tips and thank you notes on behalf of everyone. You would tidy up the guys' bedrooms and help Minhyuk's mom with cooking and look after the younger siblings, even though you're the youngest kid in your family.”

A faint “How do you know that?” hurt on the tip of his tongue.

But of course. Minhyuk must have told him that, too.

“It's odd that you remember what your long-time boyfriend told you about me – what, eight years ago? Nine?”

“I guess I would've forgotten this stuff ages ago if I hadn't seen you do all of it.”

“I could be a completely new person now, though.”

“Are you, though?” quipped Hyungwon.

“Who knows?” Kihyun quipped back.

“I know that you always put your friends first, and that's enough for me.”

Not sure where _that_ came from, Kihyun studied Hyungwon's features.

“But doesn't everyone?” he insisted.

Hyungwon smiled at him, as if he wanted to say: “Do I really have to argue with you on that, or are you going to believe me?”

Clearing his throat, Kihyun backed down. The loss didn't sit well with him. He glimpsed around. He patted the duvet and smoothed its folds.

There. All neat.

Better.

“There,” said Hyungwon, watching him. “All neat. Like the old Kihyun.”

He sounded far too amused for Kihyun's liking. And yet there was something utterly harmless in the way the corners of his mouth quirked up.

“I suppose the old Kihyun was pretty annoying, otherwise his old friends would still be with him,” said Kihyun.

“I'm actually surprised that you and Minhyuk don't talk anymore. I've always had this thought in the back of my mind that he wouldn't last a day without you.”

“He wasn't that chaotic,” clipped Kihyun, his defenses rushing back up.

“I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about your feelings for each other.” Musing, Hyungwon picked at the blanket. Kihyun reached out to fluff it up so it would lie over his legs more snugly. Hyungwon gave a half-smile at that. “I wasn't kidding when I said that the kind of friendship you guys had can be pretty intimidating. I guess that Gunhee guy felt that, too. I was with Minhyuk only for a little while, but... It was there. Dating him was like dating you.”

Stricken, Kihyun retreated.

“Was that why you left him?” It was a loaded question, and a very unmannerly one, and it was way, way too late to try and soften it. “Because you were jealous of _me_?”

It had never occurred to him that Gunhee may have had the same reason.

Not once.

The shadows in Hyungwon's face blackened as he tilted his head.

“Yes and no. You see, I didn't really envy you the place you had in Minhyuk's life. I envied Minhyuk the place he had in yours.”

There weren't quite enough duvets in the world for Kihyun to flatten, or collars to neaten, or desks to tidy up in order to gain at least some semblance of composure at that moment. He had nothing to grasp on. Nothing to distract him from the void opening underneath his feet. The rush in his veins told him that he would have to get out of the car and smooth down the sand, smooth down the whole beach, and then go on smoothing the very waves which were crashing against the ground in front of him before he was calm again. Go back into the sea like some kind of primordial being. Bury himself there as he had buried the rest.

Kihyun folded his hands and ceased moving, not even a tremor resonating through his body.

And yet he was in the middle of a free fall.

He forced himself to smile – a tight smile which left his cheeks hollowed.

“I almost took the bait,” he said through the grimace. “You can be pretty deadpan, I'll give you that.”

“Yeah, I wasn't really kidding.”

Kihyun missed one breath.

They reached a plateau in the conversation. Speaking was kind of hard when Kihyun's heart was beating right under his tongue. Words left him, and they took his reason along. This had to be the end.

Of literal fucking everything.

“You look shocked,” commented Hyungwon.

“That's because I am.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he said through teeth. “Really.”

“But you must have known – back then.”

“Known what? That my best friend's boyfriend –”

That my best friend's boyfriend left him because of me, and that _Minhyuk_ had probably put two and two together.

Grasping, crawling, a flush spread over his chest and throat in blotches. Kihyun checked the dashboard clock. This was too much information to process at two in the morning. He had an inkling there would be more.

“You seriously had no idea?” asked Hyungwon, eyeing Kihyun as his composure chipped off one piece at a time. “Not even after the party?”

“I didn't think about that twice. You were drunk.”

“Yeah, I wasn't.”

“Sorry?”

“I wasn't drunk. Just sleepy.”

“You did that _sober_?”

“Did what?”

Kihyun gave a sharp inhale. “Climb in my lap.” Like some stray kitten.

Mellowing, Hyungwon smiled. “It's a comfy lap.”

“Minhyuk was right there, though. That's such a shitty thing to do.” He slipped.

“It would be, yes, if Minhyuk wasn't okay with it. I might not look like it, but I also put friends first. He gave me a pass before I even tried to talk to you.”

“He what?”

“Said it was alright to chat you up.”

“Well, you didn't – you didn't really do much talking, did you?”

“I was going to. But as I said. You were quite comfy. I was asleep before I knew it. And then the next day you avoided me like the plague. And the day after. I didn't exactly have the chance to talk to you after that party. Ever. Even though I really fucking wanted to.”

Kihyun blanched.

“What would you have said?”

“Something _too much_ , I guess,” said Hyungwon, smiling. “Like ask you if I could suck your dick.”

“Christ.”

“Or,” he droned, “if you could pet my hair. You have these perfect hair-petting hands.”

“Hair-petting hands.”

Hyungwon hummed. “You know. Some people's hands just look like it would be great to touch them and have them touch you.”

“That's a big jump, though – from hair petting to dick sucking.”

“Actually, we could do both at the same time.”

Sensing his blush return and rise even higher, Kihyun looked away. He hated that he couldn't dispute the logic behind that.

He hated that he imagined it.

“So. Too much, right?” said Hyungwon under his breath, but still audibly enough. “Looks like I just lost a regular.”

“Look, it's just...”

“You're with someone else?”

“No. That's not it.”

“So it's still about Minhyuk.”

The radio chortled. A piece of a mellow rap song echoed through the car, soon replaced by another scratching sound.

And Kihyun's voice.

“It doesn't matter anymore. It's been nine years.”

“It matters to me. Because I kind of want to do to you what I wanted to do that night.”

That was too bad.

Because Kihyun wanted to do to him what the tide did to the beach.

His hand trembled, the one closer to Hyungwon. It was suddenly heavy as it rested on top of the duvet, denting a fold in its unbroken surface.

It had a life of its own.

Hyungwon brushed his little finger over Kihyun's knuckles, and when Kihyun responded, he found the hand yielding, unfolding for him. He stared as their fingers briefly linked before Hyungwon brought his hand up, up to his face, up to where his ear softly curved out of his head. Kihyun covered the small ear, thumb grazing the very edge of Hyungwon's cheekbone.

He held his hand in place for a minute.

Then he threaded it through Hyungwon's hair.

And tugged.

He felt Hyungwon press into the palm of his hand, seeking more of this. The inside of Kihyun's chest filled with fizz. His mind turned frothy. Washed away.

“I was right,” groaned Hyungwon. He gave a shudder as Kihyun lightly pulled at the outgrown strands. “Perfect for hair pulling.”

“You said hair petting,” Kihyun pointed out, as good as voiceless.

“True. We should test that too. Later.”

“Why not now?” He cocked his head to the side, but got no response since that was the only thing Hyungwon needed to lean in and let every other question die on his lips.

He had never thought about kissing Hyungwon. Never fantasized about it, not even back in school when he would have weirdly semi-sexual thoughts about way too many people, even girls and one or two teachers, because there was nothing quite as relentless and embarrassing as an adolescent brain with all its niches and corners.

If he _had_ thought about kissing Hyungwon, Kihyun probably wouldn't have dreamt that a tiny tug could tame him, or that an even tinier bite was enough to open him up fully. Hyungwon moaned into his mouth, leaning in, taking up all space until he was almost sitting on Kihyun's lap.

Kihyun pulled him all the way down there.

Just like the kiss, his body sank onto Kihyun lighter than he expected. Weightless. And yet Hyungwon pushed closer, imprinting himself into Kihyun with all he had. Carved Kihyun's mouth open with his tongue. Yearned for every touch he got out of it.

Kihyun guided Hyungwon into the kiss by the back of his head, straining up so the other man didn't have to slump. Regardless of Kihyun's attempts to lessen the gap between them, Hyungwon had to grind his hips low and bend his back. The swan-like curve of his neck arched under Kihyun's fingers.

God, was he tall. His long limbs enclosed Kihyun, wrapping his body up. Clinging.

Kihyun hadn't been this close to another human being in –

He'd lost count.

Hyungwon's chest was beating against his, the same pulse surging in his wrists and the veins in his neck. In tune with the slosh of the waves. With the subtle roll of Kihyun's hips under him.

“Okay, change in plan,” rasped Hyungwon, groaning as Kihyun jolted up against him. “I don't want that dick in my mouth.”

Glancing at said mouth, which glistened from being kissed over and over, Kihyun gave a confused start before he pulled back. Hyungwon let go of him, patting his pockets until he found what he was looking for. He dropped a suspiciously small packet on Kihyun's stomach.

Two suspiciously small packets.

One was them was a condom, which he recognized right away.

The other he had to inspect for a second before he realized it was lube.

“Are you serious?” he croaked.

“Nine years.” Reaching down, Hyungwon unbuckled Kihyun's belt, pulling at it slowly. Kihyun felt the slide of the leather. “I'd say I'm deadass.”

“But –”

“And before you ask again,” said Hyungwon, yanking the button of Kihyun's slacks open, “here's why. Even if I didn't wait for nine years, I kept searching for you. All the time. In everyone.”

As if it was his own memory, he saw Hyungwon with other men, nameless, shapeless, their distorted figures taking up Minhyuk's proportions. Anyone's, just not Kihyun's. Shadow after shadow trying to cling to Hyungwon only for him to shrug them all off.

The same way he would always do it with everyone and everything.

Cold, but only with those who didn't belong in his life.

Some people spent decades figuring out what they needed. Who they needed. For Hyungwon, _knowing_ it had been just as crippling. It had taken him a decade to get it, like to those who had no clue.

Lungs on fire, Kihyun grabbed a fistful of Hyungwon's hair and kissed him harder, surer, and like he meant it. He peeled off Hyungwon's clothes, and with them the last lingering shadows of men who weren't him and who had once caressed the same skin, the same dents in that delicate rib cage. Hyungwon was all limbs, but Kihyun paused mid-kiss at how bony his shoulder felt when he squeezed it.

It was like seeing models on and off stage. With designer brands on, nothing could touch them. Nothing could get through to them. No one. But in the backstage, when tiredness seeped back into their put up facades and broke them bit by bit, and when the dresses were gone and all that was left was the sight of underfed bodies, suddenly it didn't seem worth it, to stand so untouched above an awed crowd.

Kihyun had been one of the crowd. In high school. Now, too.

Watching and assuming.

He gripped Hyungwon, willing his hands to stay gentle. Fortunately, they were perfect for that.

Hyungwon grazed his stomach, fishing for one of the packets. He tore it open.

“Should I do it?” mumbled Kihyun, brushing Hyungwon's bottom lip, closing his lips over it.

“No. You enjoy the ride,” he said, smiling as the pun wrenched a singsongy chuckle out of Kihyun. “Close your eyes. Keep playing with my hair.”

So Kihyun did.

Swallowed in a bulk of blackness.

But he still had his hearing and touch.

He remembered going to the cinema with Minhyuk one day to see a new action flick. They had nestled in a loveseat together because that way they could put the bucket of popcorn between them, and awaited the explosions and Ma Dongseok's gruff monologue. Instead, a silent movie had snapped on. Some utterly rubbish piece. Long. Unconnected. A western comedy with actors who had been buried for ages.

Everyone around them had seemed engrossed in the soundless sequence of scenes – the screen in front of them black and white – the actors powdered and chalky and miming away. Kihyun had found some of the plot funny, in an ironic way, giggling at the stupidity of it all.

How old had he been? Thirteen? Fourteen?

Minhyuk had grabbed his hand in the middle of the movie and told him to close his eyes. Not even questioning it, Kihyun had done as he was told.

They had sat there blindly in the middle of the theater, straining their ears for something else than the white noise of the movie, and sure enough. The woman behind them had shifted, giving a laugh. Somewhere two rows down, two blokes had begun to argue over how many husbands the star actress had married, four or five. Popcorn had scrunched. Chairs had sighed. People had kissed.

The room had come alive, astir with a sea of sounds.

He had blushed back then, feeling like a voyeur even though he couldn't see.

It was hardly any different as he listened to Hyungwon finger himself, the wet smack of lube and the tide the only things filtering through his head. Kihyun kept his breath bated to hear it. Toyed with Hyungwon's hair, letting the strands spill softly over his fingers and between them to squeeze again. Arching, Hyungwon fed Kihyun his sighs and hums, filled his mouth with moans.

For a moment, Kihyun truly was filled. Fulfilled. Whole.

He tore away.

“You won't – leave after this,” said Kihyun, his voice more of a gasp for air. “Right?”

“I don't think so. I gotta drive you home at least,” he replied, throaty.

“Don't be smart with me.” Kihyun forced Hyungwon's head to tip back a bit, reminding him that his hands were indeed made to put things in their place.

“Okay. Let's take _smart_ out of the equation,” Hyungwon murmured, pausing as he pulled both fingers out of his hole. They were so warm when he dragged them over Kihyun's cock that he buckled. “And all we have left is _with you_.”

“You're being smart again,” accused Kihyun.

Hyungwon grinned a sleepy, fucked-out grin.

Kihyun really wished to see what his actual fucked-out grin looked like.

Easing his grip, he fumbled for the condom. Put it on. All neat. It was scented, and sticky on his fingertips. Strawberry. Why did his men always have to have a thing for strawberries?

“By the way,” said Hyungwon, taking hold of Kihyun's cock and pushing at the base to angle it, “you still gotta pay. The taximeter is still running.”

Whispering a husky “Shut up,” Kihyun led Hyungwon back down on his lap, tensing at the sight of his laughter lines deepening and then disappearing – disappearing as his mouth hung open. The tip of Kihyun's cock pushed inside him easier than either of them expected. Quicker.

It appeared that they both had pretty nimble hands.

Kihyun shuddered at the thought. Now that the walls lay broken, it was all too easy to imagine those slender fingers trailing up and down his cock, his chest. Sliding into his mouth.

Thighs moving further apart, Hyungwon sank down. He clutched Kihyun's upper arms, enclosing them almost completely and staining the sleeves of his coat with lube. Kihyun didn't care. Clasping him the same way, he drew Hyungwon down for another kiss, their tongues hot but barely touching. He lifted his hips as Hyungwon rolled towards him.

The kiss was choppy, breaking in sync with Kihyun's thrusts. He stared up at Hyungwon. Fucked into him. Guided him by the hips. By the hair. By the belt of his partially shimmied down jeans. Held him in every way he could, mapping his tender bones and fluttering eyelids. Dyed silver strands falling over his forehead. So silken that Kihyun felt bad for tugging at them, but Hyungwon whispered for him to do it, do it harder.

Kihyun gave a groan, the sound washing over Hyungwon. He groaned too. He shrank on top of Kihyun, bending his back and sitting lower. Ass splayed in Kihyun's hands.

“Grab my neck,” he rasped against Kihyun's cheek. Breathed out.

Wet.

Breathed in.

Kihyun listened to him as if he was still in the cinema, in the dark, watching the black and white curve of Hyungwon's neck instead of the screen. He reached up. Laid his hand over Hyungwon's throat. Felt it beat in his palm. Absolutely calm, Kihyun pushed at the veins that ran up the sides of Hyungwon's neck with the pads of his fingers. The pulse tickled him. Rushed. Then slowed.

Hyungwon gasped. Whimpering, he gave Kihyun a light-headed look, head thrown back. Kihyun eased his grip and gave him a moment to lap at the sweetly dampening air. He seized his throat again.

Coming closer, Hyungwon clenched inside. With every thrust, he practically strangled Kihyun's cock, tight to the point of hurting.

Kihyun took care to be felt, but not to bruise. And when his senses started slipping away from him, he let go. He took Hyungwon by the nape of his neck instead, caressing him, calling him something sweet as he spilled.

Hyungwon moaned faintly, riding Kihyun until he came. Dick squeezed between their stomachs, he got it all over Kihyun's Saint Laurent shirt.

He came _hard_.

Kihyun glanced down at the mess, hissing. He leaned back on the headrest at the same time that Hyungwon bowed down, aiming for a kiss. Missing Kihyun's mouth, he ended up leaving light nips along his jaw. The crown of his head smelled of sunlight and sleep.

When his reason returned, Kihyun became distantly aware that he wouldn't have pegged himself as the kind of guy who liked to choke other people. But oh, well.

“You know,” murmured Hyungwon, “you taste like a whole can of coffee.”

“You taste like instant soup.”

“That's fair.”

“So,” said Kihyun, a little wheezy. He began to pet Hyungwon's hair. “About paying.”

“Still gotta do it.”

He smiled. “Shit.”

“You also gotta drive if you want to get back to the city before the sun's up.”

Too drowsy to get up, he draped his arms around Kihyun's shoulders. Kihyun was still trembling inside him, and all this pressing and cuddling was making his shirt even messier, but he put his hands on Hyungwon's back all the same. He rubbed them up and down.

“I will,” he murmured. “You can just lie down here in the back. I'll take care of it.”

He winced at his words, and Hyungwon wouldn't have noticed if Kihyun wasn't only just softening inside him.

Hyungwon had many smiles. Sleepy smiles. Smug smiles. Blissed out smiles.

The best of his smiles, though, was the knowing one.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me [here](https://twitter.com/mrtvej_pes)!


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